Fire's Light
by Violet Verner
Summary: We know Loki is no longer a great brother, and a worse son- but when he has nothing left, how good of a father is he? In which Loki is a dad who will defend his daughter,Ljota, to the death.
1. Sparks

**Ljota isn't mine- she is Ljota Lokidottir's, look her up, she's brilliant. We're friends. In fact, we wrote a fic that this comes from called "Fix You", it makes sense if you read both, but this can be a stand alone. All other characters come from Marvel, and our dearest Norse ancestors.**

The mortal was dead. Her baby was whisked away, placed into another room. The onlooker held the mortal woman's hand; he _felt_ the life drain from her, felt as she got colder. His head was bowed over the hospital bed, eyes shut, trying to keep back tears.

_Everything_. He had lost _everything._ His identity, his home, his adoptive mother. And now the first person who had dared to love him in _years_ was dead, in front of him. He screamed in blind rage.

The doctor and nurses looked at him, but he no longer cared. He could kill them all in a few seconds, and he would- oh, it would be his pleasure; they had _failed_ to take care of the now limp body on the bed, they _deserved_ death, they _deserved_ his wrath.

But no, that was not what she would have wanted. And with her daughter- _their _daughter- a few rooms away- it would not suit him. Not yet. But the child- she had killed his love... no. No, the onlooker thought, clenching his fist again, the child had nothing to do with it. The small mortal woman, carrying his child? Half giant, half mortal, he should have seen it coming. No. No, that child was all he had left of his love. He would protect her with all of his power- and his power was much, so the child would be safe. No matter what.

The hand of the woman was very cold now, but the onlooker would not let go. He had lost so much, could the Universe just give him _one _minute of sorrow? The doctor put a hand on the man's shoulder. The man twitched, ready as always to spin around and fight, to end the surprise by killing it- but no, no, that would not go with the plan, _calm down, ten more minutes and you can go._

"Tom?" What? Oh, yes, the man had told the faculty that his name was Tom to blend in a few hours ago- that was not his real name, of course, but he responded to it in this place. He grunted.

"Tom, I'm sorry. You- you have to let go. She's gone..." As if he didn't know that already, stupid human. But they were starting to prepare his love's body for burial- one he would never see, he was sure. He could not. He kissed the cold, pale hand, one last time, swallowed, and left the room.

A nurse directed "Tom" to a room, where he could wait as his child was prepared. The child herself was fine, no complications on her part, but...

So he waited.

Another nurse finally got him, and he walked eagerly(yet still sad from the loss of his love, of the mortal woman, poor man) to see his new-born daughter. As he held her for the first time, he felt a new kind of happiness.

He had felt freedom.

He had felt excitement of war.

He had felt brotherly compassion.

He had felt betrayal.

He had felt rejection.

Control,

Hatred,

Boredom,

Blind and utter rage.

But this past year had been different. He had been accepted by _one_ person, after so long, and that was enough. She was gone now. But this child- he saw so much.

And he swore to protect her. On his life, which was long, he swore he would protect her. Nothing would harm her, not while he was around.

She was beautiful. Dark hair, like his, most would say, but they never knew her mother- she had the same hair. Her eyes were still the blue of a new born, but the man had a suspicion that they would be a blue-green like his later on.

There was a blue tint to her skin, which scared the nurses. It stayed that way for a few hours, and she was breathing fine, so they just presumed it was a condition- they would have to ask the father.

But as the father took the baby into his arms, the child turned a normal color- the pinkish skin of a new baby! The nurse was shocked, the doctor was amazed, but the father was unfazed, like he knew it would happen- he did, in fact. He barely hid a smile at their confusion.

He sat down with the baby, taking her in. They had wrapped her in a green blanket. Funny, he thought- he was always wearing green. In fact, under this disguise, he was at this very moment.

A nurse sat down next to him.

"Hello, Mr Nichols. I am so sorry for your loss." she said softly, looking at the baby. Ugh, he hated talking to these-

"Hmm... Thank you for.. the sentiment. " he sighed, still looking at the baby. They sat in silence for a moment. It was fitting that he stay still, he needed his daughter to stay asleep, so he could leave and her not fuss. Not to mention, he was slightly weary from grief himself... not that he would say that.

"She is so beautiful. What's her name?"

His love had mentioned this- they would ask the baby's name, and make a certificate of birth for the child for future records. Well, we couldn't have that- she could not be traced here. The government would find her, find out that she was a criminal's daughter... he could not have that. Well, then again, he was going to leave, he would not need to worry, neither of them would have to deal with it...

" Ljota," he said, pronouncing it like Loi-ta. That was the name that his love had insisted on. His name meant "fire", she had said, so why not let his child's name mean "light"? That is why the man had loved the woman- she was so clever, so loving, accepting- the light to his darkness. Of course the child would be named light- after her mother.

"Ljota? That's pretty. What does it mean?" _My word, woman, the language may be old, but it was your ancestor's after all, does no one teach you these things?_

"Light. It means light," the man said.

"Oh, that is so beautiful! How are you going to spell it?" she asked. Now was the time; they were going to start collecting information for that pesky certificate- time to leave soon. He gave the spelling, to avoid suspicion. Then, he put the baby down in the crib/bed that she came from.

"Sorry, Miss, just have to use the restroom, mind watching her?" he said, making his voice a little higher to sound friendly and appealing.

"Oh, of course!"

The man walked off, and the baby stayed behind- or so it looked. The baby was, in fact, in the man's hands still, though no one could see past the illusion he cast. He strode right past the hospital doors, out into the night, sleeping baby in hands.

As the man walked into a back- alley, his hair changed- the short dark cut melted into long, straight locks that reached his shoulders. His tee-shirt and dark jeans too melted with a green-gold glow into a black, green, and gold warrior's tunic, shirt, and trousers. The baby didn't notice, of course- she had felt it all along- so she stayed asleep.

The man looked up into the sky, which he had not done for some time.

"Heimdall! I know you see me!" he said up to it. He held the baby closer to his body, so her face was near his shoulder- didn't want her falling out of the Bifrost.

Loki held Ljota, and walked past Heimdall, without a Thank-you. Of course, the gatekeeper would not let such a thing pass.

"You have been gone for a whole year now. What have you been doing?" Heimdall said, his voice quite, but still angry. Loki still walked forward onto the Rainbow Bridge, a bit slower than usual with the little one in his hands.

"You are all-seeing. I am sure you know exactly what I was doing for a year, Heimdall,"

He strode right up to the gates of the city of Asgard, knowing Heimdall would not stop him- he was too busy looking over the Nine Realms to stop the "god of mischief" and his new baby.

Of course, Thor just _happened_ to be waiting for Loki and Ljota.

"Loki!" he yelled, gripping Mjolnir threateningly.

"Shh!" Loki said, looking to the baby, who was now stirring. Thor took no notice.

"You have been gone for an entire year! Where have you been?"

"Midgard, _brother!_ Surprised you have not noticed-"

"I have! But where... and WHY ARE YOU HOLDING A HUMAN CHILD?" the thundered. Loki clenched his jaw.

"She is-"

"You stole a human baby? For what purpose? What madness have you fallen under now?" "the god of thunder" boomed, trying to take the girl, who started to scream.

"She is _mine_, and you have awakened her, you buffoon!" Loki yelled, holding the baby closer. The problem with holding a baby is that you cannot take out the dagger from your coat. Taking the one from your shoe is not even in the equation. Loki was going to have to stay calm and calm Thor down.

Calming the child down was another thing. What had his love said before she... something about bouncing the child in one's arms? He tried. The baby seemed to calm down, but she still squirmed.

"She is yours?" Thor chuckled. "You have always been a good liar, Loki, but this? This is just _foolish._" Loki clenched his jaw. His love had once joked that he would get lock-jaw if he kept... He magicked himself so that his true form- his Frost Giant self: grey- blue skin and red eyes all showed showed.

Thor stepped back; he had always hated seeing his brother like that. When Loki had "died" on Svartalfheim, he had held that same form for a moment, making the death look more realistic- on top of many things, Thor would never forgive Loki for that. He had wept for weeks, thinking his brother dead again. When Loki came back, Odin had considered throwing Loki back in the dungeons, but after what Thor had said- Loki was allowed to be around the Aesir, the Asgardians again, but under Thor's supervision.

Then Loki got bored again, and escaped to Earth.

At this moment, Thor stared at Loki in his true form, and hid his disdain. He looked down at the baby- who had too, blended into the color of her father. Her skin had turned blue, her eyes red, a carbon-copy.

Thor blinked several times. Loki returned to his other form, the one he had grown up with, and the baby copied. "She- she is part..."

"Still cannot say the words? _Frost Giant_, Thor, she is part Frost Giantess. I am her father. She cannot grow up on Midgard. And I do believe you owe me a favor," Loki finished, standing very straight, with his daughter in his arms, staring into Thor's eyes. Thor was suspicious, as he always had been for the past few years when dealing with Loki- but he took a step back, mentally. Loki was right- this girl could never grow up on Earth. And, while it was a bit stretched, Loki did, in fact, save his life- he could only return something in his honor.

"Fine. Follow me- you know what is coming next?" Thor said, referring to Odin.

"Obviously, brother."

As the two men walked along the halls, Sif and the Three spotted them. Loki rolled his eyes.

"What is this?" Sif asked, staring at the baby in Loki's arms.

"Always nice to see you too, Sif." Loki smiled. Sif glowered.

"I do not forget what you did to us, Loki. Again, I ask, why have you a mortal child in your arms?" She knew the child was at least part mortal. Of course, because of Loki, she would have the life-span of an Asgardian- Frost Giants share that much, at least- but Sif didn't care.

"Lady Sif. It is fine. That child is Loki's," Thor interrupted. Sif, Hogan, Fandral, and Volstagg whipped their heads to Thor, wide-eyed, and looked back at Loki and the baby- Loki, of course, was grinning devilishly.

"Yours? You had a _relationship_ with a Midgardian?" Fandral said, chuckling.

"You, of all people? Have you softened, Loki?" Sif laughed along. Hogan even snickered.

"Well, it's not the first! Remember, he does have other children!" he said, almost laughing. He was referring to the three children he had in his younger days, when Sif and the Three still kind of liked him- kin of him that were enemies of Asgard. Hel, the giantess in charge of Niflheim(the land of the dead), the fierce wolf Fenrir, and of course, Thor's enemy, the Midgard Serpent. _But, that was different!_Loki's mind screamed. How _dare_ they compare those three- even _he _hated them- to Ljota, his little light? How dare they compare those monsters to his love's daughter! He who had lost everything? They did not know pain. And they dared mock him?

"ENOUGH!" he yelled. The baby woke up again, but this time, he was willing to use gentle magic to make her sleep. He was still fuming. Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three were staring at him.

"Do not _dare_ compare my child to those... abominations! She is _different_. Will I deny myself pleasure, will I deny myself love, companionship, when I get so little of it from those who called themselves my brethren?" he said, swallowing, trying not to use all his magic or weapons to kill them- not with Ljota in hand.

"I came here, of ALL places to ask for help! She," Loki said, glancing down at his daughter again, "She has no mother. Would you deny a child, mighty Sif?" he said, maliciously. Sif looked at the baby, and somewhere in her heart felt compassion for the black-haired man in front of her. She looked at Thor, her eyes demanding a word with the Prince of Asgard ASAP. She stalked away, and the Warriors Three followed her, looking at Loki and the baby over their shoulders.

Thor and Loki walked along to Odin's throne room. They had never quite gotten used to the absence of Frigga, their beloved mother. Even Loki still considered her mother. She had always tolerated him. If only-

As soon as Odin laid eye on Loki, he stood, and told the guards to leave. "Leave Loki and I to speak," he said, looking at Thor now.

"Father-"

"Now. I command it," Odin said, his voice daring Thor to contradict him. Thor looked at Loki again, wishing him luck with his eyes. Loki only smiled smugly. Thor walked away.

"Why are you here now? You dare come back after leaving us for so long?" Odin started, sitting again, clutching his Sceptre.

"Why, I thought you would accept me, All father!" Loki half-teased. "I have been gone for so long, and now am in need of help- your son said he would repay me, I am sure you wish him to keep his honor," Loki said, cutting to business, gesturing to the green bundle of baby in his arms.

"A child? You have a child?" Odin said, not quite believing that the child wasn't another monster.

"Mm, yes. I did think that was rather evident," Loki said, looking back and forth between Ljota and Odin.

"And why do you think we would help you? I have allowed you so much, Loki, but-"

"Because she has no family besides me!" Loki snapped, and Odin raised an eyebrow. "Her mother died two hours ago. Her… grandparents on Midgard do not quite know of her existence. You cherish children, you cherish Midgardians, but yet because she is my child, you are wary!"

"Why would I not be?" Odin said, his voice raising a bit.

"Because, as you so often pleaded, I was your son. She is your granddaughter, then, is she not?" Loki said, with a mad smile played across his face.

"Unless, of course, you wish me to seek help from her _real _grandfather, Laufey-"

"-No!" Odin said. He could not have a half-Midgardian on the Jotenheim, nor could he have a young half-Frost Giantess on Midgard. As much as he despised the idea, the "god of wisdom" could only see the girl growing up on Asgard. Loki smiled.

"You shall raise the girl here. But if you cause any damage, do not expect me to make your punishment lesser for the sake of the child," Odin said, his voice grave.

"Of course not, _father_" Loki said, smiling smugly. "Why would I expect anything else?"

"What is the child's name?" Odin asked, curious now.

"Ljota," Loki said, turning away. Odin could figure it out, he thought. He started for his own chambers, when Odin's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"What is her second name?" Odin asked. Loki was angry again.

Odin knew that Loki wouldn't have picked out a middle name- that was a Midgardian custom, not so much an Asgardian one. Odin knew this,and Loki knew that the All Father was trying to trick him by reminding him of the state of his child. Odin believed that if Loki was serious about the whole Midgardian idea, he would have followed the custom. Loki was angry. But he turned that around.

"Frigga." he stated simply.

"What?" Odin asked, though he heard perfectly well. Loki turned around.

"Her full name is Ljota Frigga Lokidottir. Are you not proud?" he said, smiling again, but inside he was crying. He needn't be reminded of his love, that's why he came to Asgard! And he was the one called heartless? When Odin said nothing, Loki turned back, and walked to his old chambers, where he magicked a crib for his new daughter.

But as he made it, he thought. As he did, so did Odin. see, not only was Odin surprised by the quick response of his adopted son by middle-naming his daughter after beloved Frigga, but he was perturbed by the third name. _Lokidottir. _Loki Daughter.

On Asgard, like in old Midgard, if you were of nobility, your surname was your father's first name and an attachment. Loki of course knew this. He himself had been called Odinson. He now figured his real surname was Laufeyson, but he put that aside. Thor too, was Thor Odinson, it was tradition. But a female broadcasting the surname? That was rare.

Odin knew Loki had a purpose for everything. If he was saying his daughter would be called Lokidottier, he was re-affirming that his daughter would _know_ of her origins. Loki, Odin knew, swore he would not make the mistake Odin made, and not tell her what she was. She would be half Frost Giantess, half Midgardian, raised on Asgard, and know it. She would be the daughter of Loki, and proud.

Without the real Frigga to foretell the future beside him, Odin didn't know whether that was wise, or disastrous.

Loki, on the other hand, was only glad he was in his old home- safe to silently sob over his lost love. No one would comfort him. He only had his little light now.


	2. Kindling(6 years old)

If you looked around in the large, well-lit, well decorated Asgardian first-year classroom, you would not see an eager face at first. It was a beautiful day, and each six year old Aesir could feel the sunlight stream from the glassless windows. Everyone of them wished to do anything- practice fighting, gather fruit, help the horses, run in the fields, sneak to the Rainbow Bridge, mend clothes, even, _anything _but stay inside and learn about the Nine Realms of Yggsdrasill! The boys had to be reminded to not slouch, the girls to stop passing notes of parchment. Everyone. Was. Bored. NO ONE CARED ABOUT SVARTALHIEM!

Of course, if you looked closer, in the corner furthest from the door, but closest to a window, you would see one attentive face. The child's blue-green eyes where sparkling in interest. Her back was straight, her eyes forward, her long, straight black hair in place, her green dress and gold necklace nice and sleek, not strewn about- she actually cared. She was in the corner, because no one trusted her; like the boy in the red shirt as well as the gold-haired girl next to the eager child, no other child was supposed to talk to her, because their parents had told them not to. Daughters of Loki where not to be trusted.

But Ljota didn't care. She wasn't there for those idiots- she was there to learn. Well, she was really there because Odin, or the Allfather, as she called him in public as her teachers chided, commanded she go to school with other children; that her father wouldn't be the one to teach her at home. She knew why, of course, but, once again, she didn't care. She loved her _Vater_, as she called him, and nothing would change that.

Anyway, she loved to learn of the Nine Realms. They had gone over Midgard the week before, and she had flying marks on that particular oral test. Everyone else called her a cheater, but she reminded them that it wasn't her fault she was half Midgardian, and that if they could get off their lazy bums and study more, then they wouldn't be complaining. And she was six. She had her father's quick and sharp tongue already.

Svartalhim wasn't as interesting as the planet of her birth, but it was still worth listening to, she thought. In fact, they were just wrapping up on that lesson. It was time for a new Realm today. She knew which it would be- they had gone through all seven(9- minus Asgard, minus one more realm, do the math, mortal), so she knew the next words coming.

"Now," the teacher, Lehrer Hvall said, grabbing another piece of parchment, and brushing away the sandy blond hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

"Sit up, Rith, how many times must I tell you?"

"Yes, Lehrer..."

"Now, we continue on to the last Realm. I am sure you know a little of this people. Our sworn enemies, the most barbaric... er, rather, the most primitive," Hvall said, trying to be professional, especially when he remembered present company, "And the... oh, well, you know them. The Jotun, the Frost Giants of Jotunheim." he said, chuckling.

Ljota smiled- she knew she wasn't supposed to be proud of being a Frost Giantess, even Vater wasn't, but she was a child- could she help it?

However, the other children didn't think the same way. They had been taught the Frost Giants where monsters- they where in the stories that where told on scary nights, when Fenrir was howling and it was down pouring. The Frost Giants where added into stories when children disobeyed their parents, they where the boggy men of Asgard. Each and every child whipped around and stared at Ljota, whose face slowly got longer. She was no longer smiling, her eyes where no longer eager. As much as she knew she would get criticism, she still hated it. She had but one friend in all of Asgard- her father. And he was not here. She clenched her fist.

"Class. Class! Attention, please!" Hvall said, at least kind enough to see how uncomfortable Ljota was. He pushed up his spectacles, and continued the lesson.

"Right. Now, who knows of the leader of the Jotenhiem?" he asked. Probably not such a great question, giving the circumstances. Ljota raised her hand high, not able to contain herself. Hvall sighed, knowing this wouldn't go well, but called on her anyway.

"Yes, Ljota?"

"Laufey," she said with all confidence.

"Yes, that is correct. Laufey was the leader of the Jotenhiem-"

"But the All father was still able to get that traitor in control again when he awoke from his Odinsleep years ago, right?" an eager girl in the front said.

"Er, yes. Now-"

"If it weren't for the other traitor, it wouldn't have happened..." another boy mumbled.

"That's not on subject. Do not speak if you aren't called upon-"

"But it's true! If Loki didn't let Laufey in, the All father wouldn't have had to defeat him in the first place!"

"Actually, Vater was the one who blasted Laufey off of the All father," Ljota said quietly.

Once again, the whole class turned on her again. She was angry- they had called her father a traitor _again_ in class, as if they didn't bully her with the title enough. She knew it was true, but they didn't have to ruin the lesson like that!

"Be quite, Ljota! Or, shall you cry because we're talking about the defeat of your real grandfather?" the boy next to her said. The entire class laughed then. She had tears in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall- _"Do not let them see that they are hurting you. Then you are the one who wins in the end. You can plan their demise later,"_ her father had said. It sounded pretty good right now.

"Enough, children! Now pay attention, or I shall speak to all of your parents in person!" Hvall yelled.

They snapped their heads back to attention.

After lessons, they where let out into the beautiful day. Ljota was the last one to walk out, carrying her books in her arms- she had forgotten to ask Vater to get her a bag. He forgot about those things sometimes, being the only one raising her, and a man. She walked down the hall, onto the court, and past the door without incident. But when she got to the small courtyard near the ally she used to get into the Palace(Loki was still forced to stay there, as was she.), three Asgardian boys cornered her. They where her age, six, but they where much taller.

"Hello, Jotun!" one said, knocking her books out of her hands.

"What's this?" another in a blue shirt and black trousers asked, picking up her favorite leisure reading book that she was just figuring out.

"This is from Midgard!" he said, laughing. "_Harry Potter_ _and the Philosipher's Stone_?" he read slowly. His father was a scholar, Ljota guessed, because not all children of Asgard could read Midgardian languages.

"This is in that language known as German! Is that where your mother is from, mortal?" he teased, holding the book out of her reach. Ljota was angry again- her mother _was_ from Germany, which is why she read German translations- her father insisted on it for some reasons.

"Give it back!" she said, reaching for it, but a third boy blocked her.

"Why, mortal? Miss your mother? Bet your Loki didn't really love her!" he said, taking the book from his friend and holding it higher.

"Shut up! I am not mortal, I shall live as long as both of you! Give me the book back!" Ljota screamed, reaching for it, her precious gem from Midgard. The other boys where kicking her school parchment and books, but she didn't care- she just wanted her _Harry Potter_ back!

She reached for it again, very angry. One of the boys had hit her in the face in the skirmish- that was accidental, he would say latter, even young boys knew it was dishonorable to hit a female. But Ljota was still mad, frustrated. She grabbed at the book again, grabbed at the boy's hand now. He yelled, and dropped the book.

As she had dropped it, as she had touched him, she hadn't noticed, but her hand had turned blue. His hand was now iced over, like frosty-grass in early spring. The only difference was, that Joten ice is excruciatingly painful, so frozen it burns the skin. He yelled loudly, and adults started to come towards them. The other boys where now frightened of Ljota.

"Monster! Go away! Someone, help, someone catch the Jotun! Loki's daughter has gone evil!"

Ljota was crying now- she didn't mean to hurt the boy! It was an accident, she didn't even know she could do any of that! She never thought she could have her father's magic, but this was worse- she had his curse. As the crowd came in, she grabbed her book, and ran for the palace.

She ran as fast as her dress and her small legs would allow. She took the secret(and illegal) tunnels and passages her father had taught her, because she did not want to be seen by any Asgardians that would reject her. No one could see her. She was a monster now, and monsters where always hurt or hunted.

She finally reached her father's personal chamber. She would have run straight in, but she heard talking. Not only her father's soothing, deep, husky voice, but another voice- a woman's. It was not Lady Sif giving him a lecture. It was a heated discussion, but if it wasn't Sif, who was it, Ljota wondered.

She waited outside of his chamber door, barely breathing.

POV LOKI

A half hour earlier.

_Something. Give me something to do. I cannot just be hidden in my room, waiting for Thor or another oaf of Odin's to make me go on a quest. Walking around like a guard, this, frankly BORING form is satisfying for a small time, but do not expect me to be happy with it. _

I walked through the far-too-shiny, far too faked streets of Asgard. It would have been preferable to perhaps spend some time with Ljota, but even certain rules had to be obeyed- when convenient. It was convenient at the moment. The apple-stands, the people, fake or not, they all are asking to be fooled, to be tricked, something fun, for me at least. Why did everyone have to take everything so seriously?

I sat down, looking for a passer-by who was to caught up in his own meager and petty work to notice any magic I cast near them. Perhaps a log to trip upon? A bowl of water spilling on the new parchment just worked upon? Snakes from the wine they are drinking, that never tires...

But the god of mischief never played a prank that day. Instead of a innocent passer-by, he saw _her._ The blue eyes, the beautiful dark hair that reached to her back, the fair skin. When she spoke, her voice was beautiful, he could hear it from here- but no, it was not his love, not his Aurora. Her ghost! In fact, he had met this woman, the ghost of Aurora before- they where friends(perhaps a bit more than friends, Thor had suggested) as children, before...

What if she did not... No, it was not worth seeing her. He had Ljota, he needed no one else. But...

He changed his form from a guard back to the Loki everyone knew and hated. He strode over to her- lucky that she happened to be in a corner.

"Sigyn," he said, his voice smooth as honey, his smile wide. She whipped her head around. Her eyes where wide as she took him in. The same Loki- the same, black haired, green clothed, mischievous Loki that she had loved in her younger days. But not the same Loki- he was changed, his heart darker than ever before. He had done so much to Midgard, so much to threaten Asgard, without ever an explanation? And he just strolls on back after a solid decade?

Sigyn walked closer, and Loki put his hands out, expecting an embrace, but he was wrong.

The next minute, he felt his face stinging. Twice. Both sides of the face, she had slapped, flat palm, with all of her might.

"LOKI ODINSON!"

"Sigyn! Shh, I am not supposed to be-"

"Or is it Laufeyson now? I do not care what you call yourself. If you think you shall get any sympathy from me, Frost Giant, then you are much mistaken! How-" suddenly, her mouth was muffled. He had placed his hand over her lips so she would stop talking. Loki didn't want people knowing where he was. She was struggling against him, but he pressed firmer, his eyes angry, yet sad at the same time. He knew this would happen. Yet, as he had said, satisfaction was not in his nature. He wasn't giving up.

"Sigyn," he whispered. "A word?" he said, still smiling. He transformed himself into Sif, and led her to the Palace. She went, and though angry, she was still curious.

"Your chambers? How dare you-"

"Oh, Sigyn, always so suspicious! I've nowhere else to speak with you, unless you want to be seen in public with a traitor?" Loki said, still smiling. Sigyn stared eye-to-eye with him.

"Fine. But do not expect any mercy or pity from me, Loki. You have broken my trust," she said, quietly, then walked in.

"What else, Sigyn?"

They sat, and she demanded a story straight off. He was unwilling to say anything at first, but he ended up spilling everything. Even through the evil, Sigyn still felt pity for Loki, against her word. He wasn't even trying to manipulate her this time.

"And you stayed on Midgard..."

"No one would speak to me on Asgard. What would you have done, I ask you, Sigyn?"

"You could have sought me out, Loki! You always did-"

"I was afraid this would happen. I could- _would_ not face it," he said, standing and pacing now. Sigyn knew he was uncomfortable. He did that as a child too- that brain, always moving, that heart, never content.

"You fell in love with a Midgardian?" she asked quietly. Loki did not respond, but he stopped pacing. With no emotion, he said, "Yes."

"And you had a child. She attends the school." Loki said nothing again, and Sigyn stood.

"You are just like the rest of them!" Loki said, angry again. "Taking into judgment everything I do. You may leave," he said, leading her to the door.

"No, no, Loki!" she pleaded, grasping at his arm. He paused, angry, jaw set, staring at her.

"Loki, I do not judge you! I was merely trying to understand. I would not judge you for such a thing! You where trying to change!" His eyes, welled up with tears of anger and sadness, but, as always, he did his best to gulp them down. Sigyn, at that moment, embraced him. He didn't know what to do- he had only given small, fatherly hugs over the past six years, and those rather short. He figured it out in the end, and was hugging Sigyn tightly, letting a few tears drop.

"You can always come to me," she said.

"That's why I went to her," he muttered. She looked up at him- she was much shorter.

"She reminded me of you, Sigyn, obviously." He let her go, and backed up. "But I'm afraid you are wrong. No one will allow us to continue companionship of any sort," he said.

"No. Loki ,we'll find a way, even if you must disguise yourself, I do not care-"

"How do you think that makes me feel?" he said, louder now.

"I- I am sorry. I did not mean-"

"Sh." Loki said. Sigyn looked behind her- on his chamber door, a small, but clear vein of ice started to grow, to spiral around the post slightly, then stop all of a sudden. Loki closed his eyes- he could not believe his daughter had heard that whole thing. "Ljota, come in."

Ljota

The conversation was getting heated. Vater, speaking of his past, of her mother? Ljota was trying to hide tears, she was. Who was this Sigyn? Of course she was trying to help,but Ljota was always suspicious. She leaned against the wall, her hand on the chamber door to clutch onto ANYTHING to stop from making a sound.

"How do you think that makes me feel?" she heard. Vater was getting annoyed again, poor father. If only mother was alive-

Suddenly, she noticed, too late, that her ice was starting again. She heard it crackle onto the wood of the door, and turned around in time to see it snake around, even when she moved her hand away.

"Ljota, come in," she heard her father say. She was so dead.

She walked in, book in hand, head down, tears in eyes.

"I am sorry, Vater.I was just curious, I did not mean to offend you!" she said, trying to restrain her voice. But Loki didn't care about her rudeness as he would have- he noticed her green dress was dirty near the bottom of the skirt, her beautiful hair was a little askew, her book from Midgard dirty, her other books missing. He rushed forward, and looked to her, eye- to-eye, lifting her head, forgetting Sigyn for a moment.

"What happened, Ljota?" he asked, concerned, and angry at the idiots who dared touch his daughter.

"Theymadefunofme!" she stammered, crying full-out now, becoming the six year old she was. He lifted her, and placed her on the bed, giving Sigyn a "one second" look.

"What happened?" he asked again, stroking her hair as she explained after she calmed down.

Sigyn had brought some water, and a cloth to clean Ljota up.

"They where talking about the Nine Realms in school, and they where speaking of the Jotunheim, and they asked about the leader of the Jotun, and I answered 'Laufey', and the other children started to call you a traitor!" she said, with angry sniffles. Loki was going to have a talk with the teacher, he said in his mind. Several things would conveniently go missing, he also thought.

"But that's not all, Ljota, something else happened to your books. Did some fools take them and bully you further?" She nodded, and explained after some prompting. She was crying again.

"They called me a monster! I... I froze a boy's skin!" she cried into her father's shirt. Loki was holding her now. He usually didn't know how to handle her emotions, but right now, he did. He was always getting bullied as a child- he was now doing what Frigga did for him. He held her, and rocked back and forth, trying to muster words of comfort that he wished where given to him recently.

"No. Shh...Quite, Ljota, quiet. You are not a monster. You are not. You have powers, you are special, and they will never understand that, because they are fools,but _you are not a monster_. You will always be my little light, Ljota. You and me, remember?" he said, kissing her head, and she calmed down.

"But Vater, the boy's hand-"

"Did you do it on purpose?" Sigyn said now, knowing Loki would say something a bit not politically correct.

"No," she said, sniffing. Loki gave Sigyn a thankful look.

"Well, then it's fine. You where defending yourself- you hadn't any idea you could do such a thing! Listen to your father, Ljota- you are not a monster. You are exactly what you wish to be. If you wish to be good, then you use your magic for helping people. Right?" Sigyn said. Loki had a suspicion that the woman wasn't just speaking to the child.

Ljota nodded, and smiled.

"So... I can... help people?"

"Of course, if you wish," Loki said.

"Vater, teach me how to use magic, pleaaaaase!" Ljota said, happy now. Without missing a beat, Loki said,

"Of course. I shall teach you how to do anything you wish, my little light."


	3. Flame(85 yrs Part one)

Houses, in many ways, are like people: on the outside, they can be prim, clean so no one suspects a thing; but on the inside, there is so much brokenness, so much unseen pain- and only the walls know.

The palace of Asgard isn't much different. Though, admittedly, it may be a little better.

On the bright morning in question, the household of the Allfather fared very well. Freyr and Freya walked in the gardens, Freya taking moments to flirt with the guard; Sif and the Warriors Three trained in the courtyards, so intensely that even Volgstagg forgot that lunch was approaching. Thor and Buldur were speaking to Baldur's children, reminiscing old battles as the children giggled in delight; Odin himself was doing well, receiving happy news from his ravens; even the dungeons had only one prisoner. To the secret delight of Odin and Thor, that one prisoner was _not_ Loki Laufeyson this time.

Loki himself was stretched out on his bed in his chambers, reading. And though he had recently come from jail, his wife of only 79 years, Sigyn, was not there with him; she was with a friend, weaving, a room across. Typical, Loki thought to himself; most of the crimes he would be locked up for were not even his own, or, at least, if they were, had good justification in his mind- but Sigyn still was ashamed for being the wife of who the Midgardians called the god of mischief. She stayed away. No matter, he reminded himself- he had his children... well, one child. His creature children where locked up, Nari and Vali where also ashamed of him- but blessed Ljota? His little light, or _fochter_ as he called her ( her Midgardian mother was of the German race- she liked using German in terms of endearment) was always loyal and kind to her father, proud to be a Lokidottir.

And though her room just adjacent his, he was too emerged in his book to quite notice what was going on inside.

* * *

"Let me _go_, you fools!" Ljota yelled, trying to yank free of Vali's grip, as Nari taunted her. They where only 78 years old- six years younger than herself, six years less training from Father, but they had male friends to practice with, wears she had no friends at all. The fact she had taken to wearing skirt-trousers similar to Lady Sif's didn't help right now- they had her in their grasp.

"Oh, what are you going to do, Frosty?" Nari taunted, his blue eyes grinning. Vali laughed. Ljota only hated them more- they where just as Jotun as she was, but apparently their Aesir blood from Sigyn seemed to clear it right up! Or so their friends treated it.

"We have the same father, morons!" she said, gritting her teeth. "Now let me go-"

"Or what?" Vali said, taking a turn to taunt. "You'll tell your mother? Oh wait! She is dead!" the twins laughed even harder. Their mistake. They had pushed their half-sister over edger.

While Vali was foolish enough to let his grip loosen in laughter for a moment, Ljota kept her wits about her. She twisted her wrist against her brother's thumb, and raked his shin, for good measure. The demigod yelled. Nari tried to capture Ljota by the hair, but she ducked, anticipating the move. While in a low position, she also decided to take the time to swipe the other twin's legs. He was on the floor in seconds, right along his brother, his black hair no longer sleeked behind his ears.

Ljota stood over them now and grinned widely.

"I am no weakling, _brothers_" she spat the word, but still smiled. "Do not dare attack me again. And do not dare insult my parentage-" in the meantime as she spoke, Nari, the more quick witted of the two twins, went to his knees, then sprung forward, his hands reaching for the strong, but small legs of his sister to bring her down. A mighty fall it would have been, too, if what he grabbed hadn't faded away.

The real Ljota came around a corner, shaking her head.

"Every single time. Pity. And I am not even that skilled yet- well, I suppose it does not take much to trick you fools," she said, grinning as widely as her double. Nari and Vali, of course, had the ability to do magic as their sister. But being boys raised in Asgard, it was frowned upon by every teacher except their father for them to practice magic of any kind. They were warriors, they were skilled in hand-to-hand and weapon combat.

But one type of magic was encouraged by their friends and elders. Having little exposure to their own father, the words "Jotun" and "monster" where synonymous. And though it was the greatest act of utter hypocrisy, they readily ridiculed the Jotunheim; they used Jotun as an insult, even to their own sister- and in secret, they even despised their own father for being the son of Laufey.

So if there was one magic they could control well, it was the magic of their own existence. When stressed, as children, their Jotun form and frost would often expose itself. But, hating it, they easily got it under control. Ljota, on the other hand, never learned how to suppress that part of herself- she never needed to, she thought, so she never practiced.

Her brothers knew this. They looked at each other for a brief moment as their sister stood over them. They shared a grin, then got up. Ljota readied herself, but became weak again as she saw her brothers' green and blue eyes turn scarlet. She backed off.

"Do not. You... you would not dare to condescend that low as to expose your Jotun form, brothers, would you?" she said, still trying to be intimidating, but failing, as her voice cracked. The two twins smiled. Their arms became blue and ridged up to their forearms, then stopped. She knew exactly what they would do then. She refused. She sent a blast of warm magic in their direction, but, as she said earlier, her magic was still not strong- they deflected it with their frosty touch.

They lunged forward, Nari grabbing her left wrist, Vali grabbing her right before she knew quite what to do. She struggled against them, but she was already weakened by the fear of what came next.

Her arms first, turned dark blue, her skin became harder. Like a wave, the blue skin rippled down to her toes- she felt it, because it was freezing. She felt her cheeks become cold, and she knew that her irises where now scarlet. She was in full Jotun form.

"Let me GO!" she cried, and the twins let her go- only to make her _mental_ capture worse. They where still pale skinned, still the skin of Asgardians.

"Monster!" Nali sneered.

"Jotun!" Vali added, coming closer to his sister, who was now in the corner of her room- the walls starting to get a layer of frost.

"You pathetic child. You think you have the love of your father, but you have no more love than Fenrir!" Nali said, comparing Ljota to their brother, the fierce wolf.

"Stop. Silence," she pleaded, trying to cast a spell of silence on them, and failing in her distress.

"Hah. Jotun runt-" Vali started, but was interrupted.

"Say that again?" a deep male voice demanded.

* * *

_Sigyn finally came back, looking happy. _

_ "Hello, wife," Loki muttered, not looking up from his novel._

_ "Loki, dear!" she replied, sitting on the side of the bed and kissing his head. Loki's green eyes widened in surprise._

_ "Oh, well, you look happy." he said, placing the book on his lap and sitting up against the head board._

_ "Oh, I am! I was weaving with Lady Lorelei. We had a nice chat; she is much changed from when-"_

_ "Lorelei?" Loki said, eyes widening again._

_ "Are you two acquainted?"_

_ "Oh... I know she and her sister, Amora, well enough..." Loki supplied, vaguely, "Go on."_

_ Sigyn went on to tell her husband about some of the latest gossip of Asgard. He fazed out for most of it, letting his mind wander while his _beloved_ wife continued to talk-_

_ "Sh!" he interrupted suddenly, putting his finger up. Sigyn, though, shocked, stayed quiet , as her husband sprang up, ears pricked. _

"Let me GO!" _he heard a female voice cry not too far away. _Ljota.

_Without a word, Loki whisked out of his chambers, Sigyn in tow, strait to his daughter's room. As he walked in, not only did his heart leap and his eyes become dark- his blood _boiled.

* * *

"Father!" Nari and Vali exclaimed, backing off from from Ljota and straitening. Ljota only covered her face.

"What is happening? Ljota? Why are you in that-" Sigyn would have continued to speak, thinking Ljota was at fault and her sons where helping,but Loki silenced her again. (Ljota, of course, understood Sigyn, and mostly respected her. They used to get on well, but as the twins grew up, much changed between Lokiwife and Lokidottir.)

"Nari, Vali- do repeat what you said to your sister," Loki repeated, putting his hands behind his back, his face the epitome of mock-interest.

Nari and Vali Lokison for once in their live struggled to make up a reasonable lie. They could lie or manipulate almost anyone, but to the God of Lies himself- they where wide-eyed, mouths agape. Ljota still hid her now scarlet eyes in her blue hands, ashamed by her Jotun form.

"Oh, come," Loki said again, jaw set, faking a grin. "I am sure the words you said to your dear elder sister were words of comfort and wisdom! Tell me and your mother!"

"Father, we-"

"Now!" Loki demanded, making Sigyn jump.

Nari and Vali finally got the clue to hang their almost- identical heads in shame.

"I... I called her a Jotun runt,"Vali muttered, knowing he was going to get it, and get it good.

"A Jotun runt?" Sigyn repeated, appalled. As an insult to a young woman of Asgard, even Ljota, that had no place out of her sons' mouths, but added to the fact that her beloved sons and husband where Jotuns to begin with? Even Sigyn's blood now boiled in anger, contempt, even.

Suddenly, Loki's emerald eyes turned scarlet; his fair Aesir skin slowly rippled into a dark blue, ridges appearing from under his green shirt. On Midgard, they would have considered his and his daughter's Frost Giant form beautiful, but on Asgard? Even Sigyn was secretly horrified, but knew that a point had t o be made. She bit her tongue.

"And what is wrong with the Jotuns? Are they so much less than you, so less worthy then yourselves, Nari and Vali Lokisons?" Loki said, his voice quiet, but still deep, intimidating, as he walked closer to his sons. His red eyes screamed anger at the twins. They, in their shame and embarrassment, said nothing.

"You forget that the Jotunheim is as much your heritage as Asgard! In fact, there you are technically _royalty_, through me! Are you not proud?" Loki sneered, leaning further.

"You should be ashamed!" he said, grabbing their wrists. They dared not struggle against their father as they felt themselves turn blue. Still holding their wrists, he led them to Sigyn. "Bring your sons to their chambers. Kindly." Loki added, not wanting to frighten his wife_ too _much. He still couldn't believe her racism towards the Jotun ,but they were still a young couple, they hadn't been married a hundred years yet! - she would learn. Sigyn quietly grabbed her sons' blue wrists, timidly at first, but harder when she remembered her motherly anger.

"I shall deal with them later," Loki promised as he walked over to his daughter, kneelt down and sat next to her. He could have turned back to his Aesir form at any moment, but he didn't. Loki, never being the sentimental type, didn't know what to say for a while. For a good deal of time, daughter and father just sat there, until Loki noticed that Ljota wasn't breathing correctly. When he looked a little closer, he noticed that-

"You know that you can cry in front of your father when things such as these happen. Especially after the hypocrisy of your brothers," Loki said quietly. She looked up at him.

"But it is a sign of weakness-"

"No. Not in this case," Loki said, meaning it. Empathizing. Wishing to the Norns that Odin could hear this conversation.

"Ljota, if the Allfather had told me this as a child... much... much would be different. Some of the supposed best warriors on Asgard, I have caught weeping. It is... natural." he said, grabbing her blue hand.

"R-really, Vater?" she said, involuntarily letting her scarlet eyes swell with tears.

"Really," he replied. "Thor? His grief is equivalent to a child's," he said, his twilight face all smiles. Ljota smiled as well. She was used to not-crying, so this time, she did not. But a few tears did roll down her ridged cheeks as she giggled into her father's green shirt, picturing a childlike Thor.

"You know, Ljota," he whispered. "On Midgard, your mother said that her people would think our skin is rather ravishing in this form." His daughter looked up. "You are joking?"

"No, no. She told me. And that red eyes would be considered most interesting as well," he said, staring into hers.

"Midgardians are so much more... accepting!" She said, happy that she could identify with these beings.

"Well, they do have their racists as well. Oh, they are quite prejudice, but... she," he meant Ljota's mother, Aurora, "Did say that most Midgardians are trying to change that. Trying for equality, apparently."

Loki struck the correct chord. "Better than here," Ljota said. "But... it's nice to think..." Ljota mentally cut herself off. She knew that on Asgard, as long as she lived there, her Jotun form would never be considered beautiful.

"_Vater?_" she said, looking up at him again- she had been leaning on his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Please show me how control this. It cannot continue, can it?" she said, looking down at her Jotun hand.

Loki sighed. "No, it cannot, I'm afraid," he said, pulling her up to her feet and sitting her down on the bed. As they sat, he taught her how to turn herself back to her Aesir/Midgardian skin. It took a while, but she finally took to it, a smile on her face. Loki was quite proud of his daughter inside.

"You are getting faster in your magic, Ljota," he stated when they were both in their normal forms again. She smiled in return. Then, Loki smiled wider, an idea coming to him.

"_Vater_? I know that face," she said, matching it. "You are coming up with a prank, aren't you?" The God of Mischief smiled wider, remembering that "prank" was the word that his daughter's mother had used for his little "jokes".

"Yes, _Fochter_. I have a 'prank' in mind, as you say. Remember what I said about Thor having a wide sort of emotions?"

"Yes... you said that he has a temper of a _bilgesnipe_, and you just recently said that he cried like a young child... where are you going with this?"

"Oh, listen, will you? What is the thing that he cherishes most?"

" Well, _Mjolnir-_" she started to catch on. "But father, there is no possible way we could steal it! No one could pick it up but him-"

"Ah, but who said that we ever had to pick it up? Ljota, I have taught you much of magic. Let me teach you the magic of trickery!"


	4. Flame(part Two)

Most people have played a prank. The smarter you are, the better they get, and the more satisfaction you receive. Setting up a prank with a friend is one type of fun: there is a certian type of deeper satisfaction, a warmness to your cold humor. Setting one up with the God of Mischief himself?

Ljota hardly remembered the feeling of despair and anger that Nari and Vali had inflicted upon her before. Her blue-green eyes shined with glee as she and Loki used their magics to give Thor a hard time.

"One more in this room, Ljota!" Loki whispered, dragging his daughter into an unused chamber of the Allfather's palace. Ljota tried not to giggle as guards passed by, so not to show what she and her father where up to. They ducked into the light room, ready to go through the same process as they had for the other 12 fakes.

"Thor will be running around like a headless chicken!" Ljota said, delighted, as her father closed the door.

"What? Is that another Midgardian term?" Loki replied, slightly confused as he turned back to his daughter. Suddenly quiet, she nodded, ashamed at using such vulgar-

"Ljota, you know that you don't have to be saddened about using your speech around your father," he said lightly. "Just… not around the other fools. They never take any heritage lightly bar their own, but I will."

The demigoddess nodded, and held her hands palms-downward in front of the table in front of her, ready to make the duplicate.

"I believe I can sustain one more, _Vater_," she said with a grin. Loki nodded his consent, and she began.

Her hands began to glow a greenish-gold, and from the tips of her fingers the illusion began to sprout. The handle of _Mjolnir_ came first, it's intricate brown handle appearing as real as Thor's own. Not being supported in her magic by anyone but her father, Ljota was rather slow at this point in her magic; the handle began to fade just as the mallet-end began to grow from the handle.(To be fair, she was also sustaining four other fake-_Mjolnirs _in other rooms around the palace.)

Loki came behind his daughter, holding her arms like a Midgardian father would his daughter trying to work a hammer; but to an onlooker, this would appear much more beautiful. As Ljota's warm, gold glow that radiated around her hands began to fade, it was soon replenished as a stronger glow replaced it for a moment.

Ljota looked up at her father(there was a good 5 inch discrepancy between the two Jotuns), confused, but he only smiled. With this new strength, the fake _Mjolnir_ fixed itself, solidifying. It's handle looked as the real handle made from the branch of Yggsdrasil, the mallet as the real dwarvish metal.

Loki smiled as Ljota pulled her hands away. "You're magic is improving," Loki said, in quiet pride. Ljota was stunned- Loki was never(ever. EVER.) one to give out compliments, more one to nod in appreciation.

Before she could say anything, her father was already walking quickly out of the room. "Come!" he whispered, and she followed. They walked out of the palace(receiving many nasty looks, as always, but they couldn't care less) and went straight to the grounds as planned.

"Where do you wish to wait?" Loki asked his daughter. He was making this afternoon all about her, something he hadn't done in decades, and she knew it. She said nothing about it- she loved it. They would have stayed in the gardens, but considering the number of people there(not to mention, Freya, who disliked Loki after a long argument), the God of Mischief thought it best that he and his daughter leave, and she couldn't agree more. _Why not?_ she thought. _It's a family affair already._

"Can we go visit Brother Sleipnir?" she asked, grinning again. Loki nodded, and they walked down to the stables to visit the eight-legged horse. When the stable boy saw the two dark haired beings walk towards him, he walked away, not only in disdain for the Jotun, but also in respect that they two knew as much about horses as he.

Seeing his relatives, Sleipnir(who had free range of the stable, being Odin's royal steed) trotted up and whinnied happily. Ljota ran over and rubbed her brother's muzzle, as Loki stood smiling, stroking his son's back affectionately.

"I have not seen you in ages, Brother," Ljota whispered, leading him over to a loft where Loki and she could sit. Sleipnir shook his jet-black mane, as if to return the sentiment(which is exactly what he was saying, as Ljota and Loki could understand).

Ljota and Loki went on to tell the royal horse about their trick on Thor, and he whinnied in joy. He had never liked how the All father and Thor had treated his father and half-sister over the centuries, but of course, could say nothing they would understand.

With consent from her brother, Ljota began to chomp on a crisp red apple. Suddenly, Loki snickered.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I just cannot wait to see your Uncle's foolish face when he finds his precious hammer!"

"He will know it is us, or at least, you, _Vater_," Ljota said, after taking another bite.

"Oh, but it will be worth it. In what way could this be better, I ask you?" he said, chuckling again as he watched his son walk around the stable.

"True. We should do this more often!"

"I agree-"

" No, I mean, the whole thing, _Vater_. Not only pranking _Onkle_, but visiting Sleipnir… if only I could see Hel more often as well."

Loki snorted, knowing the impossibility of that, but also felt sad. What he had said to Sif all those years ago was a lie- he did not hold any of his children in contempt. Calling Fenrir, Jörmungandr, and Hel abominations, he meant none of that. Just another manipulation to get his new daughter into Asgard, but he did feel bad for it.

"When was the last time you saw your sister?" Loki asked, sounding flippant.

"I am not quite sure… couple decades ago?" Ljota said, hiding her sadness again. She hated how she could never see her siblings- she had never even _seen_ Fenrir, the wolf, only heard his howling, and visiting Jörmungandr was not an option, Midgard Serpent and enemy of Thor that he was. That only stirred up her hate for the Allfather again- no. She stopped.

Ljota slid off the loft and caught up with the one brother to whom she could talk(she did not count Nari nor Vali, the fiends) and stroked his sleek mane one more time before walking off to continue the plan, the brilliant prank.

Loki couldn't help but see the anger in his daughter's face before she walked away without another word from him. He felt that same anger many times, and while he was used to not seeing his older children, it still bothered him.

_Ah well_, he thought as he waited for his daughter to initiate the plan. "I have had much worse, have I not, Sleipnir?"

* * *

Thor walked back from a very satisfying luncheon straight to his chambers. Sif had proposed a practice battle, to which he agreed, so he went to grab _Mjolnir. _It would be quick- the hammer was right on his bed, so no big-

Except, it wasn't there. _How in Yggsdrasil is it not there?!_

"Odin's beard…" Thor moved the pillows around frantically, then looked under the large bed, his head swimming in confusion. It wasn't there! Impossible, but true!

"_Mjolnir_, to me!" the God of Thunder said, putting his hand out. He _felt_ it come to him, but it wasn't in his hand! (A Midgardian would have called it psychosomatic). Thor stormed out of his room, back into Baldur's. His friend was not there, but his hammer was! Thor rushed over to it, ready to pick it up, but it only melted at his touch.

If he had been a bit younger, he wouldn't have noticed the greenish-gold glow, and stormed away- as it happened, he did notice it.

"LOKI!" he yelled.

Swelling with rage, Thor stormed down the halls of the palace, looking for his "brother", occasionally stopping; He past by another room he was in that day, and spotted his hammer, and decided to try and pick it up- but each time he tried this(he tried thrice more), it would fade away in a green glow.

Finally, he happened upon Ljota, who seemed to be walking towards her room.

"Ljota!" he said, walking up to her.

"Oh. _Onkle_ Thor. How lovely. What is it you wish to-"

"Do you know where your father is?" He spared no irritation.

"Ahh… no, actually, I was looking for him," she lied with ease, "Why?"

"He has played another one of his tricks, and I wish him to undo it!" he said, starting to walk away. Ljota had to hide her grin.

"What did he do, may I ask?"

"He has somehow found a way to hide _Mjolnir_ from me!" he said, heading towards the courtyard where he used to find his brother after his pranks.

"Uncle, you know Father has no ability to pick up your hammer, only you can!"

"And yet it is gone-"

"I suggest looking in your room again," she stated calmly.

"I looked there, as you say, but she is nowhere!"

"Well, if that is the last place you put it, then it is there! It is impossible for it to be elsewhere," she said, walking towards her "uncle"'s room calmly, as if to help.

Thor followed her in, surprise at her willingness to help and her optimism.

When he walked back into his room, _Mjolnir_ was there!

Ljota smiled, as she knew that Thor did not see her wave her hand. Loki and she had made it invisible… but that wasn't all.

To Thor's horror, his precious _Mjolnir_ was covered girly decorations! The handle was decked out in frills, the mallet laced with pink(!) beads, the tri-symbol replaced by lace.

As the god of thunder's jaw dropped, his "niece" fell on the floor laughing, right on cue. Behind her, came a snickering Loki, his eyes wet with happy tears.


	5. Afterward

**A NOTE FROM VIOLET VERNER (HOLMES): **

Like Ljota Lokidottir, I, the author, am not… normal. My father is also odd, being Sherlock Holmes. My Granddad? The Doctor.

That means I'm part Timelord(my mother, Molly Hooper Holmes is human), and have most of the abilities of one. I chose to be a Consulting Detective for the Universe, a Consulting Timelord- my father and grandfather's occupations combined. Helping the Universe, I meet interesting people. I met Ljota in an Alternative Universe, and we became friends.

One of our cases required that I melded my mind with hers(a Timelord trick). Later that day, I melded minds with her father, Loki. These memories that you have read have sprung up in my dreams- Ljota allowed me to write them down.

If you wish to read more about Ljota's story, look her name, Ljota Lokidottir on this site. Her story continues in "And Any Courage is a Fear".

We wrote a case together that explains both our lives called "Fix You", wich you may find under my name, Violet Verner.

I am in the process of typing up another case of mine, entitled "Oncoming Storms and East Winds" , in which Ljota also appears.

Thank you again for reading these cases and memories.

-V.V


End file.
